


goodbye, my lover

by aishiteArtemis



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a sad ending, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Emotional, Flower Crowns, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lullabies, M/M, Nervous Saihara Shuichi, Not A Fix-It, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Ouma not Oma, Out of Character Oma Kokichi, POV Saihara Shuichi, Sad Oma Kokichi, Sad Saihara Shuichi, Sorry guys, fr i wrote this exclusively at night, i cant help mysekf okay, i make him say this lewis carroll-like thing at one point i was very proud of it, i mean it was for me i hope i wrote it well enough you feel it too, i wsnt gonna put major charcter death bc kokichi doesnt technically die within the fic?, idk could be either, idk hes more serious than normal, im not gonna scare everyone away lol, im sorry guys, kokichi sings guys, okay enough tagging, perhaps?, so it is kinda good, this is kind of just shuichi finding acceptance?, you heard me he sings in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26484400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiteArtemis/pseuds/aishiteArtemis
Summary: "You..." Shuichi faltered. "You're... you're dead. This must be a dream."Kokichi nodded solemnly. "Sure, it's a dream, but why should that mean it's not real?"-shuichi meets his dead boyfriend in a dream and they have a proper goodbye
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 105
Collections: best of the best: danganronpa edition





	goodbye, my lover

He'd escaped the darkest realms of hell, escaped a world where nothing was permanent, friend turned on friend and everything was filled with despair. He'd escaped all of that, it was over now, and Shuichi should be happy. But he was not.

His psych said it was pretty normal, and that it would take a while for him to be able to move past the trauma he'd suffered whilst in that godforsaken game, but he couldn't help feeling guilty. If Rantaro, Kaede, everyone, were still here, he'd think they'd be happier. Sad over their friend's deaths, of course, but not how Shuichi felt: glad to be out of there but some strange part of him longing, aching to be back.

The world was an endless struggle for him (and the other two survivors, he supposed). Suddenly, he had the luxury to do nothing, not have to be constantly on his toes trying to keep everyone alive ( _great_ job he'd done with that) and just relax. The issue with this new development was that it caused his thoughts to wander, into memories, and, as a result, crippling grief.

Rantaro, messing around with everyone, having lost some stupid bet, before they were betting with their lives. His warm, familiar laughter sounding through the room. Gone. Kaede at her piano, playing, the sounds so soulful he could almost see the emotions. Her offer to teach him, politely declined; he just loved to listen to her music. Gone. Kaito, eternally upbeat somehow, awkwardly flirting with Maki (it had been almost comical, although it wasn't like Shuichi could do any better), his stupid haircut. Gone.

And...

And Kokichi.

At first, he had disliked the small, purple-haired boy. Compulsive liar, rude, so lighthearted about a game that legalized murder and risked their lives? No thank you, he'd thought. Kokichi's attitude to Shuichi, however, was the exact opposite; excessively clingy, and at first he found it extremely annoying, but then there was the... Incident.

Kaede had just died, right after Rantaro, and Shuichi had been distraught, feeling an amount of despair one feels only a few times in their lifetime. Both gone, just like that. He had no thoughts about embarrassment in that state and thus it was that he had come to be sobbing over the keys of Kaede's barely used piano. 

Inexplicably, out of all the living students, Kokichi Ouma happened to be the one who heard the sound. The haze of grief hung over the memory in Shuichi's mind, but he remembered some key things, like the fact that Kokichi didn't laugh at him or something, or the fact that instead he simply took the detective's limp hand with his smaller, warm one and held it until the worst had passed. It was an odd gesture at the time, from what Shuichi knew of his personality, but what it proved was that Kokichi, despite making jokes out of things to cope with them, could be serious.

And so it was that Shuichi decided to give him a chance. Kokichi took the chance with both hands and somehow disproved every negative thing Shuichi'd ever thought about him. Well, save the lies, though those were mostly joking. Slowly, over time, Kokichi worked his way into Shuichi's heart, and suddenly, one day, he woke up, stared at the ceiling for a few moments, and thought, _Oh god, I'm in love with him._

Things progressed quickly after that; although Shuichi would ordinarily like to take things a little slower, they were in a killing game and he knew he would never forgive himself if he hadn't said anything about it and then one of them had... died. So one day, he simply blurted out to Kokichi that he liked him. Worry overtook him immediately - what if he didn't like boys? What if he did but Shuichi was just too pathetic for him? But Kokichi just grinned, said "I love you too," and, as if to prove the truthfulness of the statement, stood on tiptoe and kissed him, chaste and sweet.

Nobody had quite understood why Shuichi had been so distraught upon discovering his 'friend' was dead under a hydraulic press. Of course, they had never told anyone about their relationship, and while the others had a degree of compassion, more for Shuichi than the dead boy, everyone was somewhat desensitized to such constant death: killing games did that to you. 

And so came Shuichi's deathly fear of any item that could crush you (and he found there were many, many things that applied), and the relentless stream of memories. Small touches of hands, pinky fingers entwining for a second or two before separating. Little reassuring smiles when the other seemed nervous or uncertain. The quiet sound of Kokichi's footsteps, padding through to Shuichi's room so they could just hold one another for a while. All the little moments he'd barely appreciated at the time. Even with a secret relationship, everything was still special, maybe even more so since the slight risk of these small gestures showed how much they loved one another.

Now each of these memories were a stab to the heart with a cruel, twisted blade, because they could never be repeated. 

Several days after escaping the game, however, Shuichi heaved his body, weighed down by grief into bed, but somehow, when he opened his eyes again, he saw not the drab room he'd been given, but a beautiful garden. 

He seemed to be lying on some sort of soft grass, and within his line of eyesight he could see bright green shrubs, orderly flowerbeds bursting with colourful flowers and the branches of a large tree, which he was lying in the shadow of. The colours seems almost too bright, more than in usual life, and the garden seemed to have somehow struck a perfect balance between being orderly and allowing nature to sculpt it, but nonetheless none of these things unsettled Shuichi. On the contrary, they relaxed him somehow.

He could have simply remained lying there, taking in the calming view, but something in his mind was telling him to get up, to go somewhere, and it seemed to be somewhere specific. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, so Shuichi simply gazed at his unusual surroundings as they carried him along. He probably should be worried that he was going somewhere without having consciously made the decision, but somehow he had a strong feeling that where he was going wasn't somewhere unhappy; it was more like being drawn to a warm fire, pleasant and with a feeling of coming home.

A large bench made of dark wood came into Shuichi's field of vision, and he stopped. Poking over the top of it was the head of someone with dark purple hair.

_Could it be...?_

Shuichi stumbled over, almost too quickly, and stared incredulously. It couldn't be, but somehow it was. He was staring at the lithe form of Kokichi Ouma.

"They almost match my hair, huh?" Kokichi said, oddly serenely, turning and showing Shuichi a purple flower he had evidently picked from the patch of them beside the bench. He smiled. "Glad you're here, Shumai." the boy continued, pressing the flower into Shuichi's hand. Kokichi's hand felt small and warm, exactly the way he remembered.

"You..." Shuichi faltered. "You're... you're dead. This must be a dream."

Kokichi nodded solemnly. "Sure, it's a dream, but why should that mean it's not real?" 

In his befuddled state, Shuichi couldn't quite decode that statement, but it nevertheless reminded of the whimsy of Lewis Carroll, seemingly reinvented in the mouth of his late lover. "What are you doing in my dream, Kokichi?"

"I'm not allowed to explain much," he said with a slightly glum tone, "but we get one trip. One dream where we can talk to someone one last time."

Shuichi frowned. "So... you're the real Kokichi? Not just some figment of my imagination?"

"In the flesh," the purple-haired boy grinned. "Of course, there's no real way to confirm that, since, well, this is your brain, but maybe you'll trust me this one time."

They were silent for a moment, and Kokichi picked three more of the flowers, one by one.

"So... you chose me? For your last goodbye?"

"Of course," Kokichi replied, not looking up from the handful of flowers he was gathering. "Who else would I pick? For a detective, Shumai, you sure are dense."

Shuichi laughed lightly. "Well, I'm glad you picked me at least. It's good to see you again, Kokichi." Understatement of the century.

"And you too," said the boy, standing up and patting a space on the bench. "Well then, why don't you sit down?"

The whole experience was honestly pretty surreal: Kokichi was in his dream, back from the dead, after all. Still, Shuichi immediately took the seat he was offered and for a moment just observed the boy's slender fingers weaving several of the flowers together, just basking in the fact that he was there. It was like the painful gap in his heart had been patched up. Not filled, by any means, but repaired a little.

"I think," Kokichi began, "we have quite a lot to talk about."

Shuichi replied with a simple "Yes."

"For starters, I can see you, Shuichi, from where I'm vibing nowadays, and correct me if I'm wrong but you seem a weeee bit upset."

Blinking, Shuichi said "Well I don't know if you noticed, but you wound up dead, Kichi, and so did everyone else I trust."

"Yes," Kokichi said regretfully, "and it is a reasonable reaction. Take your time, Saihara-chan, but you can't stay like this forever."

Shuichi, who had not really considered any type of end point to the all consuming grief he'd been suffering from, was confused. "Well, I could. And to be honest, I can't forget you guys. Then you'd have died for absolutely nothing. I shouldn't be happy because I survived; none of you managed to."

Kokichi shook his head slowly. "Shumai, I love you and always will, but this is the kind of thinking we're trying to avoid. You don't need to forget us," (and here he paused to mutter to himself 'please don't') "but doing nothing but mourning us isn't what we want for you. You have to live, not just survive."

"My psych said something like that."

"Well, I hate to agree with a psych but they're right. Don't forget me, Shumai, but do let go."

After several seconds of silence, Shuichi sighed. "I... I'll try."

Nodding, Kokichi continued, "Thank you. Now, I'm not sure how long I have here, probably until you wake up, but I think we should make a list of lasts."

The idea of 'lasts' made Shuichi sick to his stomach to be honest (he didn't want those lasts to be now, he didn't want to let go of the enigmatic purple-haired boy), but he agreed, "Yes. A last kiss, I should think." Suggesting this, of course, made Shuichi's cheeks embarrassingly red, but he shook it off.

"Definitely," Kokichi said, a softness to his face that betrayed the fact he too was scared of the finality of the thing. "Give me a moment," he added, and after a few of those had passed, he held up what he'd been making with the flowers to show Shuichi.

A flower crown. It was constructed mainly from the purple flowers that reminded Kokichi of himself, but also woven through were white daisies, blue forget-me-nots and a yellow flower he couldn't place. Beautiful.

"Last gift, maybe?" Kokichi suggested, cheeks tinted pink. "Shumaiii..."

"Mm hmm?"

"Could you maybe kneel down? I need to crown you with the flower crown."

Shuichi blinked owlishly but complied, and Kokichi lowered his creation onto the taller boy's head. "I dub thee... Ultimate Boyfriend."

He surprised himself by letting out a laugh, his shoulders shaking in mirth for once rather than fear or anxiety. "I love you."

"I love you too, Shumai." Kokichi smiled.

 _I wish it could have been Ultimate Husband_ , were the unspoken words between them, but they quickly moved on.

For some time, Shuichi didn't know how long, as time seemed to not really exist in this dream-world, the two boys simply talked. They talked about every subject they could think of. How were all the others doing? How did he get out of the game? Where did he live now? The only subject they stayed well clear of was anything to do with Kokichi's death, because that would obviously be traumatic, and they were trying to keep this positive. Last chat.

Later, they played a game of rock paper scissors. Not one hundred games like Kokichi had insisted on in the game, only one. Shuichi picked rock and beat Kokichi, but the victory seemed very inconsequential. Last game.

The two went through a few more things, but soon Kokichi stopped and looked back at Shuichi with a quiet but unmistakably sad expression. "Last kiss, now?" he said.

"Of course," replied Shuichi, and he leaned in and kissed the boy. Unlike the ones they'd shared during the game, urgent and passionate, this one was slow and calm, like there was absolutely nothing in the world to worry about any more, yet infused with a definite hint of sadness, as neither wanted it to be the last. Although at first chaste, their tongues soon danced together like princes at the ball, just a few minutes before midnight. Neither boy wanted to break the kiss, but eventually they ran out of air and had to separate, gasping in the fresh air of the garden.

Kokichi pressed his fingers to his lips, as if saving the kiss. "Thank you very much, Shumai," he said. "I'm very glad I met you."

Shuichi tried to reply, but suddenly felt compelled to yawn. Why was he so tired suddenly? The yawn escaped his mouth and Kokichi sighed. "I don't think we have much more time now."

"But... I don't want to leave you." Shuichi said plaintively, like a small child.

One salty tear ran down Kokichi's cheek in the silence. "I know, Shumai, I know."

The silence stretched out for a few long moments, before Kokichi raised his hand and wiped his cheek aggressively, obliterating the tear. "Well, there's no time for that. And anyway, I did this so your last memory of me could be a happy one." He patted his lap with his hands. "Cmon, you're sleepy, aren't you?"

Shuichi blinked, slightly thrown by the sudden change of mood, but obligingly lay his head down on his boyfriend's lap. Kokichi gently combed his fingers through the detective's hair, and sighing softly, Shuichi closed his eyes. He didn't want to be leaving, of course, but if this was what Kokichi wanted, he'd give him it. After all, he didn't have so much of a life to live anymore, and Shuichi did.

After a while, Shuichi suddenly became aware of the sound of quiet singing. He opened his eyes and saw Kokichi staring into the distance, and he was oddly surprised to discover he was the one singing. Kokichi's singing voice was quiet and vaguely whispery, and he sang a song that Shuichi swore he'd never heard before, but that also felt so very familiar. He considered the idea that Kokichi had perhaps sung it while he was asleep, and it had entered his mind subliminally, but instead of going into that deduction too much, he simply listened to the words, sung with a distinct lilt resembling that of a lullaby.

_goodbye, my lover, adieu_  
_don't ever forget i love you_  
_the sun is setting, it's my time_  
_to leave you now as church bells chime_  
_but please don't worry, you'll be fine_  
_goodbye, my lover, adieu_  
_don't ever forget i love you_

Just before Shuichi drifted off and back to the real world, he could have sworn he felt a soft kiss on his forehead, but then it was gone, and Shuichi found himself lying back in his uncomfortable bed, with complete silence all around.

He allowed himself to cry about the loss of the dream and the renewed loss of Kokichi Ouma for exactly thirty minutes, ugly sobs wracking his body, but somehow not waking anyone up. When the time was up, he somehow managed to heave himself out of bed, sheets now tainted with bitter tears and snot, walked to the bathroom and wiped his face.

How sad he would only hear such a singing voice once the singer had left the earth.

He sniffed, in the deafening silence of the room, and looked at his mess of a reflection in the bathroom mirror. God, he really wasn't looking good at all. It was strange, because Shuichi had lived years and years without Kokichi before he entered his life (he assumed; his few memories were hazy and uncertain), but now he felt utterly unprepared for a world without him.

How unfortunate.

Shuichi sighed, and remembered Kokichi's words. _Live, not just survive, right?_ He could do it. For them, for everyone who hadn't made it out of the game. It would be a waste for him to just disappear, because then there would be no one else to remember them. Yes.

Humming the tune he recalled vividly for some kind of comfort (although painful, it made him feel like Kokichi was here somehow), Shuichi nodded at his reflection, and, for the first time in a few days, went to get dressed.

**Author's Note:**

> wee: scots slang for little. why i make kokichi use scots slang so often is beyond science
> 
> the song kokichi sings isn't a real one but i discovered this cover a while back and i was like this is kinda how i think kokichi would sing so you can find that here: https://youtu.be/RAhwhG82wEY
> 
> thank you for reading, i hope i didn't hurt you too much! kudos and comments are always appreciated, seriously that's how i get 70% of my required serotonin quota lmao
> 
> edit 16/2/21: now with art ! which i drew myself lol you can find it here: https://secretkeepersystem.tumblr.com/post/642654928039493632/dangantines-day-3-flowers-weirdly-this-reminded


End file.
